


The Tarot Murders

by wylansflutes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Murder, This will be sporadically updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29644488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wylansflutes/pseuds/wylansflutes
Summary: When a serial killer shows up in London with a strange M.O., and a perplexing interest in our favorite crime duo, will Sherlock and Watson make it out alive, or will they be added to the list of victims?I don’t own these characters, as much as I wish I did.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson





	1. The Beginning

It was a pleasant day in England when John Watson and his roommate Sherlock Holmes were summoned. Lestrade, their friend at Scotland Yard, knocked on their door twice at 3:00, before eventually just letting himself in. John was halfway to the door, and seemed surprised to see Lestrade.

"I was just about to grab groceries. What are you doing here, Greg?" John said quickly, before remembering his manners and letting Lestrade into the entrance of the flat.

"There's a case," Lestrade said grimly. "It's a bad one."

John yelled for Sherlock, telling him that there was a case that Sherlock would be interested in. Within minutes, Sherlock was on the living room, wearing a suit and an expensive looking watch.

"What happened?"

Lestrade looked uncomfortable, and swallowed. "It's better if you just see for yourself."

When they got to the crime scene 20 minutes later, John saw what he meant. The body was in the bedroom of a small apartment, and there was blood everywhere. The body had been dismembered, with limbs hanging from various objects. There was an arm gripping the ceiling fan, a ear in a vase of flowers, and John shuddered as he saw the head of the victim on the bed, his mouth stuck in a permanent smile with a card seemingly staples to his cheek.

"What's the card?" John said, trying to focus on something other than the strong stench of blood.

"It's a tarot card. The Fool." Greg responded. "Nobody knows what it means."

Sherlock looked up from his phone, and nodded. "Until we have another murder, there's no way of knowing their true meaning. There's still plenty of evidence here."

The victim was identified as James Pond, found by his sister Melody, who reported him dead. He had an extensive criminal history, ranging everything from common vandalism to armed robbery. It was no wonder that he was called " The Fool", John thought sarcastically. It was at that moment that Sherlock began to speak.


	2. The Diversion

"This killer is clearly interested in me, more specifically, my relationship with my friend and colleague, John Watson."

Anderson scoffed. "How'd you determine that one, freak? Let me guess, based off a smell on his shoe?"

"Of course not," Sherlock replied, rolling his eyes. "The killer placed John's cane in the bed. Why take the time to steal his cane if not to taunt us?"

Sherlock left abruptly, leaving John to run after him. They sat in silence the whole ride back to 221B Baker Street, only breaking the silence when they noticed a package on their doorstep. John instinctively picked it up to look at it. It had their address written in blue pen. Their was a note, which Sherlock took and read. 

"John, I want you to stay very, very still for me." His voice didn't waver, but there was a considerable amount of panic in his voice.

"Why?"

"I'm afraid- I'm afraid you may have just picked up a bomb."

John was concerned, but he wasn't as panicked as he knew he should have been. "Call 999. Now!"

Sherlock fumbled with his phone, but eventually started dialing.

"There's no signal. We're going to have to figure it out ourselves."

Sherlock brought a small table to John. “Put it down as carefully as you can, John. But quickly.”

John put it down and stepped away, as if just looking at it would set it off. Sherlock opened the box, and examined the bomb. He then gave John a set of directions.

“Go to the police station and get Lestrade. Tell him about the bomb, and bring the bomb squad here.”

“I’m not going without you! You could die!” John shouted.

“Go! Now!” Sherlock lowered his voice. “Please.”

John ran as fast as he could until he reached the police station. 

“There’s a bomb at 221B Baker Street! We need help!”

It was at that moment that that John heard a loud bang and felt the ground shake, and world turn black as he fell to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m pretty new to this whole thing, so please comment what you guys want to see!


	3. The Fallout

When John woke up, he was dizzy and disoriented. It took him a few minutes before he could get himself up to a standing position and assess his surroundings. Scotland Yard had clearly been affected by whatever the loud noise was, judging by the amount of people laying on the ground, and in various states of shock. It wasn’t long before he remembered about Sherlock, and reached for his phone.

“Don’t bother,” a female detective said. “Cell towers are down. Whoever did this, this is clearly their magnum opus.”

John started to think of Moriarty. The man had taunted Sherlock for months, even causing the man to fake his own death. It couldn’t be Moroarty though, John thought. He was dead, after all. At least, John hoped that he was dead.

“Is... is anyone dead?” John said, swallowing heavily.

“We’re still looking, but, yeah. We’re going to look for the survivors. Do you want to help, or are you going to look for Sherlock?” She sounded sympathetic towards him, but John knew that he had to stay. If Sherlock was right, then it was John’s fault that these people were dead.

As they dug through the rubble, John learned more about what had happened just an hour prior. It turned out that a security guard had let the bomb in, and that Scotland Yard wasn’t the only place hit. Three other places had been bombed according to a note the killer had left, but since John’s phone was dead, he couldn’t look it up. He could only assume that they were in other major locations in London.

In the end, they only managed to get 5 survivors, but they pulled out at least 15 lifeless bodies from the rubble. He saw the face of Donavan, as cried as he pulled her body out of the building to where the other corpses were. They were never friends, but she didn’t deserve to die like that. She deserved to grow old, and have kids, die peacefully. But she would never get that.

John put his head in his hands, and cried.


End file.
